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Original Writing Anonymous

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Daniel Heppell 11/01/2005 English Coursework - Original Writing "Anonymous" She's nice. The kind of nice that you can get to know, who wont be too full of themselves to not be bothered with what you have to say. I can have a conversation with that kind of nice. She is so resistant, though, towards me, which I cant understand. I cooked her breakfast. I gave her a room, a place to sleep, and to sit, and to look at herself. A woman such as her has to look her best. I hope she can eventually forgive me for mistreating her in the way that I did. I can understand a little resistance, because I took her in, but left her children in her car. I told them to lock the door, and I called the police to pick them up, but I didn't harm them. ...read more.


They didn't adapt to my way of life. They didn't adapt to me. After all I gave them, I still don't understand. Maybe she will be the one. The one willing to accept. A clever one. One who knows when they are truly happy. On who knows when they have everything they need to survive. One who knows when to submit. "She" The door is still locked. Locked to the rest of the world. Locked in and out to my stinking abyss of a room he says he's donated. To my new life. His contribution. His contribution to my end. He doesn't understand that I don't want to be here. He doesn't understand that I have other commitments. He doesn't understand that I have a life I'm already satisfied with. I don't understand. My children. What has become of my children? ...read more.


Jesus is my only relation now. We both were ended in the asme way. Tied to an object and suffocated. Jesus was stretched across a cross, as I am stretched across this bed. They both look as though they are from the same time period... the bed and the cross. How coincidental. Would he be satisfied if I dressed myself in a single waistcloth and nailed myself to this bed? Would it satisfy his little fetish? Would that make him happy? I somehow don't think so. Does he not understand, like me? Does he not understand that I have a family? A life, alternate and better than this. I'll never accept this pitiful existence. I would never want my children to think that their mother submitted to such a life. That their mother wanted to live on her own, than to live with them. That their mother didn't love them. Never shall I submit to such a monster. With my last shred of hope, I'll pray to my only relative, in my time of peril ...read more.

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